A Legend Scattered
by shinobi201
Summary: "Legends. Stories scattered through time." Long ago there was a Grimm that was not soulless. It's birth marked a dark time for humanity, and so they allowed it to slip into obscurity. However, it left it's mark.


**So this is a short work that will tie in with a larger RWBY project I have in the works. Think of this as a prologue. Though, the actual story may also have a prologue, in which case think of it as the Prologue Pt. 1, so that it fits the show's pattern. Hope you enjoy, please review.**

* * *

_Millennia ago, as man began to take back ground from the forces of darkness_

A warrior runs through a snow covered wasteland, incredible dexterity guiding feet from rocky pits and jagged protrusions. They fought back tears in their eyes as they focused on escape. The sharp sounds of bones cracking were masked by the slushy sound of flesh and snow as screams echoed through the wide valley. The warrior was alone now, the last survivor.

The warrior didn't think about them, focusing on escaping the ember-eyed creatures that fell from every side. This was supposed to be a basic scouting run, but it had turned into a massacre. There had been twenty of them, close friends who knew and complimented each other well, even possessing the new powers of Dust. The creatures of darkness had seemed scarce in this area, with previous journeys having few encounters. They had assumed they would be home by nightfall, but as they neared the mountain pass the last member now fled from with reckless abandon, an increasing number of encounters forced them away from the newly retaken settlement of Atlas. Risking a glance toward the pass, the lone warrior saw a flood of black surging into the valley and skies, white masks and red eyes rushing forward with incredible speed. Every breed the guardian had ever heard of descended into the valley, directing the guardian just like before. The valley was a dead end, a grave for a warrior who had endured this war since its earliest days in Vale. The remnant of the scouting party readied a spear in one hand, a dust crystal in the other – death would not take its prize without a fight.

**There is no hope for victory. Do you not see the futility of your actions? Flee, there may yet be refuge from these beasts!**

That sickening echo within their head spoke again. It sounded like the guardian, but loud and ominous, yet the guardian had long since learned they were the only one capable of hearing the voice. It always whispered words suggesting betrayal and death, kindling and fuel for an inferno of despair within the warrior's heart. Why, then, did it suddenly suggest survival?

A shriek from above gave the warrior the first target. As a dragon rose from the human shape, fire spewed toward the diving bird. Rising sharply and flapping its wings, feathers impaled the dragon. It shimmered before fading from existence, the guardian dropping from a bout of exhaustion. The human stood to find themselves in an aisle formed by the feathers, pointing toward a pale rock formation. With creatures beginning to squeeze between the walls of feathers, the warrior fled toward the rock formation with a growing sense of dread. It had become horrifyingly obvious that the creatures were acting to direct, not to kill.

**Your journey is almost at an end…**

"Stop it! Stop talking! Let me die with silence in my mind…" the guardian cried hysterically. Tears had begun to flow forth like waterfalls off their face, the droplets flying through the air as they raced toward the formation. Getting nearer, it seemed like the material of the creatures' masks and armor, complete with red markings. A circle of pillars rose from the snow out of a large pit, age denoted by dead knotted vines cloaking their thin frames.

**Your death is not as certain as you may think…**

The survivor slid into the pit, hoping to find refuge. The power of aura saved them from crippling injury, but little of it remained for battle and the spear had been broken. Slowly getting up, the remaining guardian examined the surroundings. The pit opened into a large cavern extending far off in all directions. The only thing marking the distance of the wall was the sea of red eyes and markings reaching endlessly into the darkness, a single beam of light shining from the pit.

The creatures of darkness looked on in silence even as the last crystal was taken in hand. The last scout fired lightning in all directions, lighting up the cavern like brief flashes into the most horrific of nightmares. Creatures fell and were replaced instantly with but the sound of their collapsing corpses. Still, the creatures stared in silence. Light faded as the winged creatures blackened the sky above, and rocks began to fall as creatures crawled down the walls of the pit. The guardian screamed in frustration, sinking to their knees in tears.

**Humanity has lost this battle. You never stood a chance. Do you understand how worthless you are now?**

"Kill me," the warrior whispered. There was anger in these words, dripping like venom from a snake. They wanted it to end, an escape from its dark mutterings.

**No. Look to the center of the pillars.**

The guardian did as told, noticing for the first time a ring of ivory resting on the ground, painted with the red lines of the creatures. At the sight of it, the survivor felt both uncontrollable revulsion and desire. Filled with the overwhelming compulsion to run and grab the ring, the last warrior closed their eyes and covered their ears. The echo laughed a harsh snort of amusement that sent a chill down the spine.

**You cannot escape me that way. Face your destiny, for this is the day we will rejoice.**

"What are you?" the hunter whispered shakily. The roars, clicks, and shrieks of the creatures began the reply.

**We are your enemy. **

"Why? These being slack souls, but they show reason. If you direct them, then they can be docile. Why do you attack us? Why am I here? Why won't you kill me?" the warrior said, staring around at the glowing eyes in the dark.

**Beings of life dared to seize this world of ours. It was only natural that we retaliate. We began by taking the souls of beasts, so that we may combat your spread. But you humans – you use your soul differently. You use it as a tool – a weapon. And then you found Dust. We desire this power to further combat humanity, and wipe the light-bearing ones from our world for good. We demand satisfaction, and you will be our voice. Take the ring there, and we can begin.**

The guardian considered the request. They needed a human to use aura and Dust, to combat humanity further. The guardian had sworn to protect humanity, friend and foe alike, so that they may live in this world in peace. Family, friends, and comrades were who guardians lived for. Each guardian shared that trait – betrayal was not an option.

"I refuse," the guardian said, standing to turn from the white circlet on the ground. "I cannot betray my comra-" The warrior stopped, facing a floating cloud of darkness that acted as a dark mirror to the last warrior. Its mouth opened to speak, the chilling echo now coming from the dark mirror.

**These comrades? ** It posed the question as things began to fall from the pit, hitting the ground with splats, thuds, and squelches. The guardian's eyes closed in winces, knowing without seeing that the sounds and cold drops were the flesh and blood of the other nineteen guardians. **We killed them, just like we killed all of your comrades who have died, just like we killed you're family, just like we will kill every man, woman, and child in this world. Who is it you are meant to betray? Humanity has nothing for you now, it is a race not yet aware of its extinction. You may fall alone, just as you lived, but we offer another solution. We are timeless. When you and all your children lay dead, we will remain. Before you and your forefathers, we existed. Someone will take our offer. Mankind may fight tooth and nail for survival, but there is a day when you will do so no more. The fall of humanity is an inevitability that was always destined to occur. You have the choice of a quick and painless death… or a slow and tortured one. Will you take the ivory band?**

Eyes closed in contemplation; the guardian was forced to consider the thoughts that were previously pushed away with battle or intoxication. Now, however, no such escape existed. Humanity was just beginning to make progress retaking old lands, resettling old cities. However, this had come at a price. The guardian looked young, but the the possession of a significant aura had allowed many to live much of this long war that had lasted uncountable moon cycles. The number of defeats and failures were depressing. How would the new city deal deal with this many creatures of darkness? How many would die? How long until others even knew what happened? How could they hope to win when the creatures began to use cooperation and tactics like those in this cavern? All throughout the guardian's life, helping humanity had been the leading cry. The guardian had never really lived, however. Starting early on, the world had proven that it cared little for the idea of affection. With naught but a single sister that had been disregarded for many moons left alive, the guardian was indeed alone. The internal struggle that had continued for the entirety of the guardian's long life finally came to a close. A long unanswered question was finally answered: the guardian did not want to die.

"I will" was the whispered reply. The sound was hollow, lacking anger, fear, or even sadness. The guardian was beaten.

A laugh of absolute elation echoed throughout the cavern as the guardian felt the ring being placed within a shaking grasp. Slowly the ring was raised to the guardian's head, fitting perfectly. Six eyes opened with reticent tears, the guardian's eyes turning red as the face grew cold and white. The cavern was empty, leaving only the shattered spear and spent dust crystal on the ground. A moment later, a large black dragon flew from the pit, a white mask bearing red markings and six red eyes turning towards the city of Atlas.

And so it was in the Legend of Grimhilde, Queen of the Darkness, the Masked Warrior. Though her legend would fade from memory, the "creatures of Grimhilde," shortened to the "creatures of Grimm" over time, would remain.


End file.
